All Through The Night
by WolfAngel'JR
Summary: Deeply traumatized by an unusual werewolf attack, a woman has trust issues with her own child. Takes place in 1996. This is part of a series featuring my original characters.


******Disclaimer:** I don't own the Harry Potter world but it belongs to J.K. Rowling.**  
Genre:** Horror  
**Rating:** 16+/M  
**Fandom:** Harry Potter  
**Characters:** Only my original characters.  
**Chapters:** 1  
**  
Warnings: **Graphic violence. Nudity, (but not graphic). Sexual themes; rape, (but not described all the way.)

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**ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT**

Another starless, moonless night in the war-ridden London was nearing the small hours of the morning, but it hadn't seen the sun for weeks. A blond woman in her late twenties, sat on a bed holding an infant child in her arms. She stared out of the window where all the lights had been stolen as if to remind the modern human that the artificial world was only an illusion. It held no power against the primitive forces from the darkest corners of the universe. The worst were those touched by it, and their presence could be felt with every breath in the cold night air. Indoors it was easier to ignore that the moon was full.

She laid herself down on the bed, nestling the baby next to her and closed her eyes. She should not fall asleep like this, too many things could go wrong. She was shaken wide awake by a howl that was dripping hunger and lust for flesh. The boy lying next to her turned on his belly and gave out short sharp cries as a warning of a one that would not end unless he'd fall asleep. She got up and lifted the child in her arms, started to walk around the room hushing and speaking to him softly, caressing his back and black hair. Her blood heritage had marked her with death, so she felt they couldn't afford drawing unnecessary attention to their house. It was protected by strong spells, but evil could find a way. Her attempts to calm the baby seemed to have little to no effect, for even though there was no more howling the child cried harder. She knew her fear had to be passing onto him, and it was in moments like this when she desperately wished to find the real mother in herself. But as always, she felt a disconnection. This time it felt stronger than ever, making her wonder if her lack in maternal instinct sourced from the full moon night two years ago.

After a while she gave up and began to look for her wand, but in vain. Another unnatural haunting howl pierced her mind, so near their house that it froze her and nearly drowned the little one's cry. Something heavy hit the room's window and then came a quiet scratching sound as if something sharp ran down on the glass. She spun around to look but the light in the room blocked any view from the inside and she could only hope it was a branch from the tree near the house. She backed away from the room towards the door, the window glass revealed by the lamp light's reflection. Then, by the steam of something breathing on it.

She turned around and closed the door behind her, finding herself in a large dark living-room that felt like something infinite in which death lurked in each corner, under and behind every furniture. The baby's crying grew distant and she saw and heard everything in slow-motion, the world felt like in a dream, only real. She kept her eyes on every window in sight as she moved towards the kitchen where she remembered last seeing her wand, on the way feeling for the light switch to have at least the illusion. The comfort came and went in a flash of light and the sound of escaping electricity. In the dream-like world inside her head she'd forgotten that the baby was still screaming, until it stopped by a loud growling at the front door. Something started to break it down, growling and howling as the door started to give in.

Her heart was racing at such a pace she feared it would fail her, she found her senses again and rushed towards the closet door on the opposite wall. She closed the crying baby in, in hopes that they'd come after the visible human first, giving the child a chance. She was a muggle-born, her blood was magical but not enough to automatically help her much in situations of deep fear. The boy was different; his father was powerfully magical, perhaps it would help the infant to even transport out of reach, when insecure and afraid enough. But even if, it was unlikely to save him endlessly.

In the moon-lit kitchen she saw no wand but reached for knives for defence. Her efforts turned into a scream when through a shattering, chinkling glass leapt a large, black wolf-like creature with wild, yellow eyes and a growl so fierce that it sounded more like a roar. Like a feline beast the thing fell over her, hand-like paws reaching for her, its muscular body blocking the moonlight until it landed on top of her, sinking its long sharp claws into her flesh as she fell hard on the floor. Its large sharp teeth were bloody, drool dripping on her face and beautiful thick blond hair. Survival instinct had her fight even though it felt useless, the wolf was too heavy and pinning her shoulders to the floor. It got up on its hind legs and began to drag her towards the living room, she turned on her stomach to better struggle away, reaching for anything that didn't move.  
In a heart-beat most of her attention turned to the living room when another window shattered by another slobbering wolf-like monster crashing through and landing on the wall-to-wall carpet. The reddish brown, black-eyed creature bared its white teeth as its attention was drawn to the direction of the still crying infant. Before she could make a move, the black wolf jumped on her, down on all fours again, pinning her down.

The closet door flew at the back wall under the reddish wolf's weight. The woman's mind was filled with the horrible sound of growling, slobbering, and clothes being torn as she helplessly watched the wolf dug for its prey – she didn't even get to wondering why the wolf pinning her down wasn't doing anything. Slowly she was brought to the realization that it was; it was tearing not her flesh but her clothes with its hand-like paws. She draw a deep breath in terrified disgust as memories rushed back from the dark corners of her mind. For a moment she was on that alley again, and started to fight more desperately than earlier while the wolf's breathing grew heavier, its growl deeper and its slobbering increased. She forgot her baby as she frantically but in vain fought the monster; its hot breath on her skin stank of metal, someone's blood dripping from its tongue, and her brain and soul felt like it was cut with a rusty knife when during her struggle she felt the hard organ between the wolf's hind legs, confirming it a male about to mate with her.  
She tried to scream in order to give herself more strength to fight the creature off but the sound was stuck deep inside her, beneath the horror, fear and pain at the moment she felt the wolf got her naked. First she felt its claws sink deeper into her flesh and it tore long lashes on her back, so deep its claws scracthed the bone beneath. It kept multilating her soft flesh but seemed to have no intention to hit vital places yet. Her fear and screams of pain seemed to drive it deeper into the feaverish lust for flesh. Finally it wrapped its powerful arm-like forelegs around her broken body and pulled her tight against itself, to penetrate. The dark house was alive with growling of animals and screaming of a woman and child, blendinng into the sound of tearing flesh and breaking bone...It felt like all that was left in the world.

She breathed heavily, silently crying and covered in cold sweat when she found herself sitting up in her nightgown, clenching the end of her bed, staring at a wall and from the corner of her eye seeing the bright full moon outside. On tne night table the digital clock annouonced ten to midnight. Realizing it had all been a nightmare brought together by fears and traumas, she calmed down second by second until she felt she wasn't alone.  
"Mum," she heard a sixteen-years old boy's voice call out from the corner of the room, sounding as if he'd called her by her name and had little interest in her troubles. She turned to find him sitting in a chair. She remembered why he was there this near midnight, but was unsettled by how he sat as if he'd been there for a while, watching her. His expression was impossible to interpret but his eyes and voice were filled with cold eagerness.

The years of the wolf had slowly changed the boy. How much, she wasn't sure of but tried to trust his father's judgment. A crooked smile crept on the boy's face, and to her it seemed malicious. With enthusiasm and passion he whispered.

"Let's play."

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******Author's note:** This specific story won't continue, but this is part of a series featuring my original characters. I usually write much longer parts. This one just felt better this way.

I totally get that what scares one person doesn't necessarely scare another at all, but to say this is "just fanfiction porn", (which some have), I think is judging it hastely. This is not meant to be porn. If you're a fan of horror, werewolves, or Harry Potter, I hope you enjoyed thsi story. =)


End file.
